


Candy Coated

by pluto



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Torchwood
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-01
Updated: 2010-08-01
Packaged: 2017-10-10 21:44:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/104629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pluto/pseuds/pluto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey, Jack, a lollipop and a message.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Candy Coated

**Author's Note:**

> This is set after Journey's End but before Children of Earth. Written for the Awesome Bingo™ that foxysquidalso and I are doing. Prompt: "lollipop."

The sight that greets Jack when he steps into his office is priceless: one Mickey Smith, looking otherwise dangerous in head-to-toe in black, sucking on a lollipop. His combat-booted feet are up on Jack's desk, and he's studying something furry in his hands.

"Hey Mickey, you're so fine," Jack sing-songs. Mickey all but leaps from the chair, yanking the lollipop from his mouth and hiding both it and the furry thing behind his back. Jack glances at one corner of his desk and raises an eyebrow.

"Have you got Mister Fuzzlepuss?"

The topography of Mickey's brow turns complex. "Mister Fuzzlepuss?"

"Yeah, about six inches tall, purple, furry, whiskers... you know, alien that was on my desk currently stealing your lollipop--"

"What?" Mickey hastily brings the contents of his hands into the open. "No, it's just a--" Then he realizes what Jack's done and chucks the stuffed animal at Jack's head. "Real funny," he says, and, "What've you got that thing on your desk for, anyway? You planning on opening up a daycare?"

"Hey, I wasn't the one cuddling up to it a minute ago."

"I wasn't cuddling," Mickey says, shortly. "Just having a look. Thought it was weird, that's all." The hand holding the lollipop creeps up; Mickey closes his teeth around the hard candy before pulling it all the way into his mouth.

A smile tugs at the corners of Jack's mouth, and despite his better judgement, he lets it show. It's such a funny image, tough guy Mickey Smith, sucking petulantly on a lollipop like an affronted five-year-old.

"What?"

Jack just shrugs and laughs. Mickey pulls the lollipop out of his mouth and gestures with it accusingly at Jack. "I didn't think it was cute or anything, all right? It just reminded me of-- something." Mickey's serious expression softens briefly, tiptoes towards sadness before he recovers and scowls. "Never mind. Why'm I explaining myself? I just came to drop this off."

Mickey reaches into a pocket in the side of his trousers and pulls out a long envelope. He extends it towards Jack with one hand and returns the candy to his mouth with the other. Jack refrains from making a suggestive remark--a sign of his great respect for their friendship, surely--and tears the envelope open. He skims the letter, means to put it aside and get his full measure out of Mickey's visit, until his mind registers what he's reading.

He looks up at Mickey, Mickey worrying his bright red sucker, the edge of the paper stick starting to stain pinkish. "This is real? You've seen it?"

Mickey nods, mutely.

Jack shakes the envelope and a glossy printout falls out. Jack picks it up, stares at it. Graffiti on a building wall, two words, over and over: Bad Wolf. Jack swallows. "It's not-- it can't be her. Probably just some kids," he says, trying to convince himself and Mickey all at once. "Saw her handiwork somewhere and decided to copy it."

There's a sharp crack. Jack looks up, startled; Mickey's eyes are faraway. It takes Jack a minute to realize the sound was the lollipop breaking between Mickey's teeth.

"Yeah. Probably," Mickey says. "Anyway. Turned up on the side of Thames House this morning. Just thought you might want to know." He shrugs and the well-chewed paper stick comes free in his hand, liberated of its candy crown. Then he pushes back away from Jack's desk and tosses the remnant of the lollipop into the trashcan without looking.

Even before he opens his mouth, Jack can tell he's about to excuse himself, claim this emergency or that, leave so they can both lick their wounds and mourn memory-perfected good ole days. So as Mickey draws in a breath to speak, Jack blurts,

"How about a drink? There's a great place I know--got in this total brawl there with an old buddy of mine and they _still_ let me in. Plus they make this--" _Rosé_ almost slips out, but he saves himself by turning that into "--rum thing that'll knock you flat on your ass."

Jack can see the no hovering on the tip of Mickey's tongue. He gropes for anything to turn that no into a yes. He says the first thing that pops into his head:

"Also, you know, the inside of your mouth's bright red."

Mickey blinks, frowns. "My--what?"

"Like, creepy clown nose color red. Drink?"

Mickey stares. The silence threatens so long Jack almost loses it, almost invokes her name. Then Mickey laughs, short and sharp, but a laugh.

"Yeah. All right," Mickey says.

Jack grins, grabs his coat off the coat rack. He tosses the letter and the photo onto his desk. He'll deal with it later. He slings an arm around Mickey's shoulders, enjoying Mickey's slight squirm.

"You know," he says, "I knew a Querellian hooker who swore up and down that she could pick up anyone if you gave her a red lollipop and five minutes..."


End file.
